Your Father
by greenglassghost
Summary: A collection of one shots where North is mistaken for Jack Frost's father.
1. Your Father

Your Father

"Come on, Jamie, cheer up," said Jack.

Jamie just hugged his pillow and didn't look at the winter spirit. It wasn't that he was angry at Jack. No, his anger was reserved for another. And it wasn't like he didn't appreciate Jack's attempts at cheering him up. He just wanted to sulk for a little while. Then he'd get over it.

"Hey, come on. It's not so bad. Hey, how about _I_ take you ice fishing instead, huh? I know it's not the same as going with your dad, but it can still be fun," Jack said.

Jamie genuinely appreciated Jack's attempts at cheering him up, but could tell that Jack was missing the point. "You don't get it, Jack. Ice fishing really isn't that fun. It's a lot of sitting around and waiting."

"Then why would you even want to go to begin with?" asked Jack.

Jamie explained, "Because it's not about the fishing itself. It's about who you go with. It's about the time you spend with them. I mean, how would you feel if your father said he'd do something with you, then decided he didn't want to, and just didn't show up?"

Jack's expression was sympathetic, but he shrugged. "I can't say I'd really be that surprised, considering my father died some three hundred years ago."

Jamie was taken aback. "What?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Jamie.

"My father dying three hundred years ago?" asked Jack, with a fair amount of uncertainty, like he wasn't sure that was what they were talking about.

"But . . . but Santa! I thought Santa was your father."

Jack laughed. "North? My father? Good one!"

Jamie flushed. "I wasn't joking. I really thought Santa was your father."

"And I'm pretty sure that just got you on the Naughty List, Jamie, but don't worry. You're in good company." Jack told him.

"What? Naughty List? Why? It would make sense that Santa was your dad! And I'm not the only one who thinks that!"

"Wait, what, what, what?" Jack asked with alarm.

"I'm not the only one who thinks that," repeated Jamie.

Jack stared at him, for once lost for words.

"All the other kids think that too! Cupcake, and Monty, and Claude –"

"Wait, all of you think Santa's my father?"

"Yes!" shouted Jamie.

Jack gave him an incredulous look. "How the heck did any of you guys start thinking that?"

"Well, we just figured it made sense," Jamie told him.

"In what way?"

"Well, you're both winter Guardians, right?"

"In a manner of speaking, I guess."

Jamie continued, "And Santa lives in the North Pole! And you live in the North Pole!"

"No I don't," Jack said.

"You don't?"

"Nope. I don't."

"Well . . . well we thought you did. Why don't you?" Jamie wanted to know.

Jack shrugged. "Why don't you?"

"Because I'd freeze to death there."

"Touche. Though seriously, I don't live there because, well, it's not my home."

Jamie was curious. "Well, where is your home?"

"Nuh uh, I'm not letting you get off topic that easily. Why else did you guys think North was my dad, Jamie?"

"Well, because you guys look alike!" Jamie said.

Jack was affronted. "What? We do not!"

"Oh yeah you do. You've both got white hair –"

"His is white because he's old!"

"But dark eyebrows. And bright blue eyes. And your faces look alike too!"

"You can't see his face underneath that big bushy beard!"

"Well the parts you can see look like yours!"

"No they don't!"

"Yes they do!"

Jamie watched Jack flit around the room, more like the Tooth Fairy in nervous mode than his own usual carefree gliding. And he realized that Jack seemed a little upset about this, which made Jamie feel a little bad. He hadn't meant to do that, or start an argument. Jack had been trying to cheer him up, and he repaid him by reminding him that his father was dead. Jamie even understood why the idea of Santa being mistaken for his father upset him. Even though it would be cool to the extreme to have a dad like Santa, Jamie wouldn't trade his own father for Santa. And even though his dad let him down sometimes, it was still better to have him around when he actually came than to not have him at all.

"Sorry Jack. I just thought North was your father. It made sense in my head."

Jack calmed down a bit and perched on his desk. "Hey, no worries. But you should probably let your friends know the truth. I don't know how old Santa will react if you he finds out people actually think I'm his son."

"I don't think he'd mind," said Jamie.

Jack shrugged and Jamie thought he looked almost scared. He decided to drop the subject, but only after getting one more word in.

"You're like the big brother I never had. The coolest big brother ever. I'm sure Santa would be proud to have a son like you."


	2. Scorched

Scorched

Jack gasped for air and curled up on his side. It was hot. So hot. Everything burned. His skin, his throat. The frost on his hoodie had all been melted away my the forest fire's intense heat. Soot was left in its place.

But they'd done it. He'd done it. Well, Smokey Bear had helped, but most of it had been all Jack. Putting out that forest fire. Saving an entire town and countless woodland creatures. Jack was pretty sure he now qualified as a big time hero.

Unfortunately, said big time hero couldn't even lift his head now.

The American Midwest was having an Indian summer. The worst kind of summer in Jack's opinion (but not for any racist reasons; Coyote and Raven were both awesome and always ready to prank the heck out of anyone with him). Normally, during a summer that stretched into the fall months, Jack did all that he could to keep out of the heat, skulking in caves, chilling in streams or his lake, leaving the hot areas altogether, and the like. But when some careless kids had decided to set off fireworks in the forest, surrounded by all those dry leaves that had rapidly turned into kindling, Smokey had sent out a distress signal. And even though Jack didn't really know Smokey, due to the bear always going into hibernation during the season Jack was most active, he'd answered the call. Kids were in danger, which made it Jack's fight, and even though most people thought ice was a bad match up for fighting fire, well, most people didn't know Jack.

Now he was coughing and choking on smoke, all his power spent up, but all the flames were out. Unfortunately, that didn't mean that all the smoke and heat was gone. Summer was still holding on with vicious claws, and the smoke still hung in the air like poisonous mist. Meteorologists would be baffled by the freak snowstorm that managed to occur in an area of high heat and low humidity, and by the way the winds had suddenly all died down when it started, but they could just be baffled. Some, he was sure would call it an act of God, but hopefully some kids would know the truth, and maybe get a few others to believe in him. Because Jack could really use a few more believers right about now. He was as weak as a kitten, having used up every ounce of his powers to save them. All he could do was wait for someone to come find him and get him out of here.

He wasn't even sure if that rescue was really going to happen, or if he'd end up just laying there trapped in a fever until the first snowfall. That had happened before, but if it happened now he was going to be seriously ticked off. True, the other Guardians didn't know where he was or what he was doing, but Smokey knew he was here because he'd come to help the big lug. The guy owed it to him to at least search for him.

Jack wasn't sure how long he just laid there. Hours, at least. He managed to roll onto his back and stare up at the moon sometime after the sun went down, but even with the fiery orb's disappearance, the temperature didn't drop one bit.

"Lit . . . little help?" he croaked to the Man in Moon. He hoped that the guy would send North or one of the others a message. 'Please pick Jack up after forest fire,' or something of the sort.

Suddenly, heavy footfalls crackled through the charred undergrowth. Jack gave a pained smile. There was only one Guardian big enough to make that much noise.

"Nor . . . th . . . Over . . . here! North . . ." he tried to call out. It came out more like a rasp though and then he fell into a coughing fit that made his throat burn even worse.

"Frost?"

Jack almost groaned in protest. That voice was decisively not North's. Nope, it was the firefighting bear. Smokey had come looking for him after all.

By the time he managed to get his coughing under control, Smokey managed to find him.

"Frost! I was starting to think you were toast!"

"Not . . . funny . . ." Just those two words brought on a new coughing fit.

Smokey slid his clawed paws underneath Jack and tried to help him to his feet, but Jack couldn't even manage to stand, even with help from his staff, which he'd been reflexively clenching all the while. Smokey moved quickly as Jack fell, and the boy ended up draped over the bear's back.

"Hang on, Frost. I'll get you someplace cooler, then I'll call your father."

My . . . father? Jack thought dazedly. He wasn't sure what Smokey meant, but didn't have the strength to even ask.

He closed his eyes now that he knew he was going to be okay and let his head hang down, all his muscles relaxing except the ones he was using to hang onto his staff. He was so tired. Maybe it would be okay if just for a minute or two he . . .

* * *

"Jack? Jack? Can you hear me, Jack?"

Jack moaned, unsure of where he was and what was happening. His throat still ached, but his skin had stopped stinging. He was somewhere that wasn't so warm now. And hand that rested on his forehead was blessedly cool.

His eyelids felt so heavy. Opening them would be so much trouble. And he didn't want to wake up. Not really. But something needled at the back of his mind. Something someone had said right before he fell asleep.

"Jack?"

"Father?"

Silence. And the cool hand abruptly was removed from his forehead.

Jack panicked.

"Father?!" he cried out, and forced his eyelids to open, even though they stung as soon as he got them open. His hands twitched as he tried to reach out for his father's hand, to get it back, so he'd know he'd be safe and . . .

. . . and a very startled North was staring down at him, a startled expression on his face.

For a few seconds Jack was confused. He didn't know what had happened, or how North had gotten there too, or where his father had gone. Then he realized, when he saw North's hand hovering right over his hair that it had been North's cool hand he'd felt on his brow. And North's voice trying to wake him up.

Jack groaned. He wanted to curl up and die, he was so embarrassed. He wanted someone to tell him that he hadn't just been crying out to one of his fellow Guardians, mixing the man up with the long dead father that he could barely even remember the first thing about.

"Are you alright, Jack?" North asked, prompted by his groan, which he must have taken for one of pain.

Jack made a noncommittal sound and closed his eyes again. Scant though the movement was, it was enough to squeeze two tears out of his eyes, and send them trailing down the sides of his face. It was testament to how weak he was right then that he could even cry at all. Usually his tears froze before they could even leave his eyes.

He twitched in surprise as he suddenly felt North's cool hand back on his forehead, smoothing several scraggly pieces of sweat stiff hair away from his face.

"Jack?" North asked again.

"'m awright. Jus' over heat'd," Jack managed to choke out. He squeezed his eyelids shut tighter because he could feel pressure behind them. Like there were more tears trying to escape.

"Come. I take you back to North Pole where it is nice and cool." Jack felt an arm slide between his back and whatever he was lying on, while another slid beneath his knees. Then he was being lifted, then cradled against North's chest, his head resting against North's shoulder and it felt . . . it felt familiar. Like maybe Jack's real father had held him like this, so many years ago.

Jack kept his eyes closed and leaned against North, hoping the older Guardian didn't notice the tears that were leaking from his eyes now. He didn't want to even think about how awkward this would be for North if the man knew what he was thinking, how much he was wishing that it really was his father cradling him right then . . . or how at the same time he was also wishing North was his real father. But it didn't matter. There was no way North knew what was going on inside his head, and even if he did, Jack hoped it would be forgivable, since his brain had apparently been temporarily melted into slush.

So he thought it would be alright to pretend . . . just for a few minutes.

* * *

Yep. Smokey the Bear is a spirit. Or whatever supernatural beings that aren't actually Guardians are. He's one of those, because really, why not?

If you have any ideas for chapters you want to see, drop me a line. I'm taking requests :)

Also, please review!


	3. Cool Cats

Cool Cats

Jack had a cat. Kind of. Well, it wasn't really his. For a long time he wasn't even really sure it was a cat. It stood on two legs just as often as it stood on four, and it had a really long tail that was forked at the end. The rest of it looked like a cat. More specifically, it looked a lot like a kitten he'd saved from getting its tail cut off by some crazy peasants in Japan during the nineteenth, when he was went exploring there after hearing legends of a Japanese snow woman.

Years later Yuki-Onna did confirm that it was indeed a cat monster. A nekomata, in particular. Apparently they were demons and nasty pieces of work, but Crazy Cat, as Jack had taken to calling it, never did any harm while Jack was around.

Okay, yeah it did, but never to him, or any innocent people.

See, Crazy Cat had a tendency of popping up right where Jack least expected, but when he needed him the most. Don't ask how the cat managed to traverse the continents, because Jack still hadn't figured that out either. But the time he ran afoul that volcano spirit in Iceland and needed to make a quick getaway, Crazy Cat appeared out of nowhere and immediately went for the eyes. And that time he really ticked off those river nymphs and they called on their wood nymph cousins to tie Jack up in vines, there was Crazy Cat to claw through the vines and use all those wood nymphs as scratching posts.

And now, as Jack struggled to free himself from the giant slabs of gingerbread that had fallen on him and pinned him, Crazy Cat was suddenly in front of him, hissing and spitting at the witch.

Going back to explain the situation, Jack had no idea what possessed the witch to try setting up near Burgess. Burgess was his town. Everyone knew that! Or maybe not everyone. Okay, actually very few people knew that, but it didn't matter! It was the closest town to the lake he'd been reborn in, and the town he'd called home for so many years. There should have been enough lingering winter magic in the surrounding area for any spirit or supernatural being to realize that this place was claimed, so imagine Jack's surprise when he was flying over the nearby forest and found a house made out of gingerbread with gumdrops on the roof and panes of sugar glass in the windows!

Well, Jack knew how to deal with that. And it wasn't by huffing and puffing and blowing the house down. No, much easier to freeze the heck out of it, calling down wind all the way from the Arctic circle and blasting the gingerbread house with subzero temperature air. Once it was good, and brittle, and well and truly frozen, Jack moved into finish it off. He divebombed it.

In hindsight, that wasn't the best idea.

The house shattered like an ice sculpture, yeah, but it also collapsed on and around him.

And it turned out the witch was home.

Needless to say, she wasn't too happy. Normally there wasn't much she could have done to Jack, because she was really, really old, and only ever went after children, which made her the worst kind of scum in Jack's opinion, but being pinned beneath a pile of gingerbread wasn't the best position to be in for witch fighting.

Then Crazy Cat was there, standing in front of Jack while he pulled himself free, keeping the witch at bay.

"Good kitty," said Jack, finally getting his legs unpinned. He spun his staff and aimed it toward the witch, ready to turn her into a witch-sicle.

"Miserable little boy! Wait till I tell your father!"

Crazy Cat looked at Jack quizzically and gave a questioning "Mrouw?"

"She's talking about North, I think. A lot of people seem to think he's my father these days," explained Jack to his faithful feline friend.

"Nya!" spat out Crazy Cat.

"Yeah, I know." Jack sent out an ice blast from his staff, freezing the witch solid. It wouldn't kill her. Witches didn't die that easily. But it would keep her trapped until he could find someone capable of pushing her into a fire to finish the job. He wondered what Jamie and Sophie were up to this weekend. Crazy Cat jumped into his arms, purring and demanding praise. Jack scratched his cat behind the ears and stood in front of the witch, knowing she could hear him in her icy prison.

"For the record, North's not my father. But even if he was, he wouldn't punish me for freezing a child killer. I think he'd be more likely to say, 'Atta boy, son!' and take me out for ice cream. Mmm, ice cream. You want some ice cream, Crazy Cat?"

"Rrrrroue."

"Let's go get some ice cream."

* * *

AN: This one's for YYWT, who requested something from mythology/folklore, like a Nekomata. I had to Wikipedia a nekomata to find out what those were because Japanese folklore is not my forte, but when I found out what they were, I was reminded very strongly of Dex-Star from the Red Lantern Corps. So that's how I wrote the nekomata. I hope that's acceptable.


	4. Atta Boy!

(continued from "Cool Cats")

Atta Boy!

An hour later found Jack on the doorstep to North's place, his staff slung over his shoulder, a two gallon bucket of Neopolitan ice cream hanging from the crook like a hobo's bag. Crazy Cat had slunk off into the shadows and disappeared after they'd finished the first two gallon bucket (he was kind of a light weight). Jack, however, was a man, with a man's hunger for ice cream, and still had room for plenty more . . . but kind of had this paranoid feeling now that North might find out about what he'd just done and get mad, so he wanted to tell him what he'd done before anyone else could do it first . . . and then maybe have some ice cream with North.

Jack was used to the hustle and bustle of North's workshop. Even before he'd been welcomed there, he'd grown used to how busy it always was. He floated overhead to avoid the heavy foot traffic on the floor, picking up speed so that he could weave his way through and dodge the flying toys and the elves that manned them, iced a banister so he could slide down it with his bare feet, and burst into North's workroom, forgetting to knock as usual.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I froze a witch but she was totally asking for it. . . uh . . ."

Jack trailed off, dumbstruck as he realized that North was not alone. There were three other spirits and immortals in the room . . . and all three of them women.

"Uh . . . sorry. I didn't know you had company," Jack said, shifting from one foot to the other, self consciously.

"Jack! Come in, come in!" said North jovially, clearly pleased to see him.

"My word, North," said one of the women.

"Who's the lucky woman?" asked another.

"He's adorable," said the third, standing to move to stand in front of Jack.

Jack looked at her uncertainly, then at North.

Then at the woman who'd come closer to see him better, as she took his chin in her hand and moved his face so he was looking right at her. "You have your father's eyes."

"Wh-what?"

"North, you didn't tell us you had a son," said the woman.

Jack looked too North uncertainly, only moving his eyes because the woman was still holding his chin. He caught North's wink and mischievous expression. Then North came over to put a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"My pride and joy," he told them, and gave Jack a small shake.

"Who's his mother?" the second woman who'd spoken asked again.

"Oh . . . very beautiful lady . . ." North trailed off.

"She died some time ago," Jack told them honestly not quite sure what was happening.

"Oh!" all three women gasped at once. The other two took this as an invitation to come toward North and Jack.

"You poor man," said the first one, patting North's arm.

"At least you have your son to help remember her by," said the second as she reached out to touch Jack's snowy hair.

"He's a beautiful, beautiful boy, North. You must love him so much," said the third.

"Yes, we are close, my boy and I." North pulled Jack to him, his arm around Jack's thin shoulders, making his words at least physically true.

Jack was pretty sure he knew what was going on now. It seemed North was quite the pickup artist to have three women hanging onto his every word. It seemed these immortal women were really into the very big, intimidating, downright jolly, mysterious, fearless, caring, wonder filled, thing North had going on. Then just to sweeten the pot, North threw in an adorable son to get them really eating out of the palm of his hand, the same way he'd seen frat boys take in puppies to help them get girls.

"Jack. These are my old friends. We lost touch for many years, when I thought I had no time for anything but bringing joy to children. Thanks to you I realize that I too need some fun in my life, so I call up my old friends. This is Katherine, and this is Mary, and this Brynhildr." North introduced each woman in the order that they'd spoken.

"Um, hi." Jack waved.

"Come. Is high time you learned to play bridge," said North. He led Jack to the table.

"Bridge? Isn't that a game for . . ." he almost said old ladies, but realized how inappropriate that would be.

"For the great of mind, yes. Come. Sit. I teach you now." North sat down and pulled up a chair for Jack.

Jack tensed. He wasn't really very sure how he felt about this. He wasn't sure how he'd been expecting North to act when the man found out people were mistaking them for father and son. He wasn't even sure how he felt about that himself. But this was just in fun. It wasn't hurting anything. And it was better than North getting mad and putting everyone who thought they were related on the Naughty List like he's been expecting to happen.

So he sat down and so did the immortal women, and Katherine began shuffling the cards.

"You were saying something about a witch when you came in," North reminded him while they waited.

"Oh yeah . . . There was a witch near Burgess. She set up a gingerbread house. I froze it and busted it apart before she could use it to lure in any kids."

"Ha ha!" North burst out laughing. He slapped his thigh then slapped Jack on the back so hard, Jack almost fell out of his chair.

Jack smiled in relief. Then almost fell out of his chair again at North's next words.

"Atta boy, son!"

* * *

This one was for Squee-bunny who asked for one where Jack interrupts a meeting/reunion North's having with other mythological figures, and gets mistaken for his son, and having North play along.

Btw, if you're curious about the three women, Katherine is Mother Goose, like she's very obviously going to become in the books, Mary is one of the many Marys in children nursery rhymes, take your pick, and Brynhildr is a valkyrie. And North is a playa!

And by popular demand, Crazy Cat will definitely be returning. And I'm started working on a companion fic to this one called "Your Son," set from North's POV. Some of those chapters will be his side of some of these chapters. Others will be completely new. I've got something special I'm working on building up for Christmas too. Exciting times lol


	5. Snowpocalypse 2012

Snowpocalypse 2012

In recent years, the ice and winter spirits of the world had developed their own Christmas traditions. This was thanks in part to the fact that none of them were particularly welcome in their part of the world's mythologies or folklore canons, and in part because of the boy who would become the Guardian of Fun.

Even amongst other spirits, the cold ones were often left out or shunned. No one liked cold and death. No one wanted winter lingering in their homes, around their heartfires, or at their parties. To be one of the cold ones was to be lonely. Until Jack Frost got the idea to bring them altogether.

No one wanted the winter and ice spirits around for Christmas? Fine! They'd hang out with each other, someplace where no one would bother them and they could make it as cold, and snowy, and icy as they wanted! And if White Christmases became a rarity in parts of the world that used to get them frequently, well that was their problem. Because Jack was tired of being alone at Christmas. And the other cold ones were too.

Usually they got their party started on Christmas Eve. Well, to be precise, every year for the past thirty years, they'd gotten started on Christmas Eve. They all made their way down to Antarctica starting early in the morning, with most of them arriving throughout the afternoon or early evening. All of earth's cold spirits were invited, and ever since they'd started, they had good turnouts. Loki, Boreas, Khione, Yuki-Onna, and Snegurochka were there every year. Others like Ice-Maiden, White Witch, and Old Man Winter showed up some years and skipped out others. Every year it got a little bigger, with a few more immortals attended. Even Frosty the Snowman, who wasn't an outcast like most of the rest, had started showing up, along with the Little Match Girl. They still hadn't figured out why she wanted to be there yet, but whatever. The past two years they even had a few Yetis. The only real rules were no killing or maiming anyone, and if you can't stand the cold then LEAVE!

This year though . . . this year they were getting started early. You see, the old Mayan pantheon was prophecizing the end of the world, what with their calendar running out, and . . . well, that was the only thing they had to base their predictions off of. And Jack Frost thought it was awfully silly that they didn't just get a new calendar like everyone else in the world did when their old one ran out. But the Mayans were so looking forward to their apocalypse that it seemed like a cruel joke for nothing at all to happen.

So Jack had talked it over with Loki who agreed something should be done. Then they got to planning with all the others at last year's Icemas, which was what they called their celebration, and decided that this year they would get started a bit early.

"Special delivery! Ragnarok is here!" shouted Loki as they got started, bringing their blizzard to the Mayan empire . . . or what was left of it.

"Snow day!" Jack gave his standard shout for whenever he brought in a storm.

"Leaves falling from trees . . . Snow drifting onto the ground . . . Life leaving your corpse . . ."

"Yuki-Onna . . . did you just speak in haiku?" Jack asked.

"I could speak in haiku too, if I wanted to," Snegurochka said as she and Yuki tried to outdo each other with the snow drifts. Those two had never gotten along for as long as Jack had known them. Jack was never sure why.

The jungles that the Mayan spirits called their home quickly filled with snow, thanks to the combined efforts of the majority of the world's cold spirits. But even with all of them, their snow didn't last long. It turned to slush so quickly. But it still scared the heck out of the Mayan spirits, which was all that mattered.

After making international news and scaring all the doomsday predictors worldwide, they finally had to call it quits. Even with all of them working together, they couldn't keep the storm going for more than half a day. They started heading toward Antarctica to get the real party started.

Jack flew beside Loki, who was riding on that weird six-legged horse that he must have stolen from Odin again.

"I see you too have a staff now," he commented.

"People seem to believe I have one of these now. I might as well look the part," Loki told him.

"Do people believe you look like a frat boy in giant beetle armor too? Because I'm having a hard time with this new look of yours," teased Jack.

"Tell me, brat, are you planning on spending this Christmas with your father now that the two of you have reconciled?" asked Loki way too innocently sounding.

Jack nearly dropped out of the air in his surprise. "Hey! That was you? You're the one spreading those rumors about North being my father?"

Loki smirked. "As a matter of fact, yes. Or at least one of the ones spreading them. Your fan club was doing a darn good job before I got involved."

"Fan club?"

"Yes. You even have fangirls now. Congratulations."

"Dude, I don't even know what a fangirl is but . . . but not cool, man! I don't bring your family into our trolling war!"

Loki looked at him with genuine confusion. "Which I, of course, appreciate, but I hardly brought your family into this."

Right. Because North wasn't really his father. Jack swallowed, not sure what he was feeling right now. He scowled at his old friend deciding that annoyance was a better option than depression. "Bringing my lack of a family into this isn't much better. I call foul play!"

Loki gave a slight nod, acknowledging that he would take this into account in the future, but saying that aloud was not their way. Instead he commented dryly, "I suppose I can expect to find hot peppers in my ice cream again this year, for this slight."

"That and more. You better sleep with one eye open," warned Jack but his tone was joking.

* * *

A note on chronology: I'm kind of jumping around with the timeline for the different chapters of "Your Father" and "Your Son" (which the first chapter of is now out, so please go read it!)

But to clarify, the first chapter of "Your Father" and the first chapter of "Your Son" both take place during the November that follows the movie. "Snowpocalypse 2012" takes place the month after that (this is assuming that the movie took place in early 2012). "Scorched" takes place next autumn, and "Cool Cats" and "Atta Boy!" are set a month or so after that, after the weather turns cold.

At this point, North and the other Guardians don't know Jack isn't planning to spend Christmas with them. They don't know about his yearly get together with all earth's other cold spirits, and just assume that now that there's nowhere else he'd have to go. They'll be in for a bit of a rude awakening when I write that one. That will probably be next week though. Also, the haiku Yuki-Onna says is from Borderlands 2. And there will be more of her and Snegurochka in a future chapter.


	6. Old Man

(takes place right after Snowpocalypse 2012)

* * *

Jack's Old Man

Icemas was in full swing by dinnertime. It was dark by then, since the south pole had long nights and only a few hours of daylight in the winter, but the cold spirits didn't mind the dark. Many of them could make their own light, capturing it in ice crystals or some such. They had no use for a bonfire or torches.

Jack sat between Loki and Snegurochka at dinner, and across from Khione, and listened to the Greek snow goddess's confusing rant about meddlesome demigods with fire powers or some such. She wasn't making a whole lot of sense, but he nodded and made sympathetic noises whenever Loki, who actually did seem to be following her did.

"Well, my dear, I'm sorry for your troubles, but you had to know your failure was inevitable," Loki said at last.

"Oh? And why is that?" demanded Khione.

"Because the world is destined to end at Ragnarok, when my wolf breaks free and swallows Odin. And the sun, but I've told him to prioritize Odin I myself will meet that stupid oaf Heimdallr on the battlefield and we will kill each other," explained Loki.

"Like that's any less ridiculous than raising the anti-Olympians?" asked Khione

"It certainly is. I've got runestones and prophecies, not to mention operas to back it up."

"It's kind of self centered to think the world ends with you, Loki," teased Jack.

Loki cuffed him lightly, playfully. Jack smiled and continued to eat his ice cream.

"I think maybe we need a new rule. A ban on discussing possible apocalypses during Icemas. It only ever causes fights," said Snegurochka.

"Nah, it's all in good fun. Let them bicker," Jack said. He was an American spirit after all. He was all for freedom of speech.

"Like an old married couple?" Snegurochka whispered. She probably didn't need to bother lowering her voice because Loki and Khione were going at it louder now.

"I dare you to tell them that," said Jack.

"And risk being the victim of Loki's pranks for the next decade?"

Jack just laughed.

"It's not like they have it that bad. I mean, sure, they argue, but you know if that fire demigod had actually succeeded in melting Khione, Loki would have hunted him down and rained death and destruction over everything he held dear, killing all his friends and family, and making him watch before throwing him in a volcano and freezing it, so that he'd be trapped in igneous rock for eternity. And Khione would do the same if anyone did anything to Loki. It's actually kind of romantic."

Jack blinked at her then glanced to the side and watched Loki and Khione both trying to yell over each other, neither of them coherent in their arguing.

"If you say so," he said finally.

"I think . . . it would actually kind of be nice to have someone like that. Don't you, Jack?"

Jack considered. His mind went to the Guardians, who he supposed had his back now. And that was nice, but they weren't really into the whole vengeance thing. That was more Pitch's territory, and Jack preferred not to stray there. But he still supposed that it would be added security, having his enemies know that if they really hurt him, they were asking for a seven-fold helping of revenge being heaped on them.

"I guess," he said finally.

Snegurochka smiled then picked up the cherry off of her sundae and licked the chocolate syrup off of it. Then she leaned over toward Jack and held it toward his mouth, moving it toward his lips. "Want it?"

"Uh, didn't you just like . . . lick it and stuff?" asked Jack. He actually thought that was a little gross.

Suddenly, Snegurochka fell over and Yuki-Onna was in her place. "Hi Jack!"

"Uh, hi?"

"Sorry I'm late! I had to run back to Japan and freeze over a couple small mountain villages. But I'm here now! Good turn out this year, huh?"

"Excuse me, but I was sitting there," said Snegurochka looking like she wanted to kill Yuki-Onna with ice . . . which wouldn't be an effective way of killing her.

"Thanks for keeping my seat cool," Yuki-Onna replied graciously.

Wait, was that really why Snegurochka had sat down beside him? Jack had the feeling he was missing something, judging by the icy glare Snegurochka had turned on Yuki-Onna, but decided to chalk it up to their usual rivalry.

"So, I was wondering Jack, could I meet your father?"

Jack had been in the process of taking a drink of iced water. He accidentally spit it out all over Khione, interrupting her fight with Loki as he choked on an iced cube.

Luckily for Khione, Antarctica was so cold that even without all the winter and ice spirits gathered around a single table (which was itself a big block of ice) the water Jack spit out would have probably all frozen before hitting her. So instead of getting soaked, she was only pelted with a light barrage of ice. Khione glared at him all the same. Loki laughed, as Snegurochka pounded on his back, while Yuki-Onna yelled at Snegurochka not to pound on his back because that could make him choke worse.

"My bad, Khione," Jack said as apology when he was able to breathe again.

Khione just kind of hmphed and looked pointedly away.

"Are you alright, Jack?" asked Yuki-Onna, one hand on each of his shoulders, with her arm wrapped around his back like she was giving him a sideways hug. Meanwhile Snegurochka was trying to squeeze between Loki and Jack to hang on to Jack's other side.

"I'm fine, but . . . not you too, Yuki-Onna. Loki! How many people have you told that North's my father?"

"Hmmm, I've lost count," said the mischief god.

"Have you told everyone here?"

Loki did a quick glance over of all the cold spirits. "Everyone except the yetis. And Frosty. I hate him."

Jack gaped. "You even told the Little Match Girl?"

"Yep. Her too."

"Loki!" It was the first time Jack had ever actually been ticked at Loki for one of his pranks. When everything was said and done, Loki was his friend. The trickster god had never actually done anything hurtful to Jack at least acknowledging him when no one else would, lending an ear when Jack just needed someone to talk to during those long lonely 300 years, and teaching him the finer points of pranking.

Loki held up his hands placatingly. His message was clear: I told them before you called foul play.

"It's okay, Jack! You have nothing to be ashamed of!" said Yuki-Onna.

"Yeah! If anyone should be ashamed it should be North! Ignoring you all those years!" said Snegurochka.

Loki smirked. "Yuki-Onna and Snegurochka agreeing on something? Wow, Ragnarok might actually be at hand."

"I never would have taken North for such a deadbeat dad," said Khione.

"Very irresponsible of him," agreed Boreas.

"Guys! North isn't actually my –" Jack stopped talking as he saw something in the sky. The flickering lights of an aurora. At first he thought they were the southern lights, or the aurora australis, but even as the thought formed he realized that was wrong. There was magic in the aurora. He could see it clearly. Northern magic. The aurora was a summons.

His annoyance grew as he realized this. He'd told North that he had plans for Christmas, so whatever North was summoning him for, it had better be important. It had better not be an attempt at conning Jack into spending Christmas with the Guardians because he wanted to spend it with the spirits he'd spent the past three centuries building friendships with. Not the group who'd only taken an interest in him because the Man in the Moon told them too.

He did consider ignoring the summons, but knew that he couldn't. It was his responsibility as a Guardian to go, if there was even a chance that children needed help. Even though it meant he'd miss the annual frosting of the Christmas tree, which was his favorite part of Icemas.

"I better go see what the old man wants. I'll be back as soon as I can."

It wasn't until Jack was miles away that he realized his wording of that sentence hadn't been well thought out. He'd forgotten how many people these days liked to refer to their father as "old man."

* * *

AN: For the people who asked for more Icemas and Rasberry Jo who asked for Snegurochka.

I borrowed Khione from the Percy Jackson series, and Yuki-Onna from Nura: Rise of the Yokai clan. Loki isn't actually the one from the Avengers, but has drawn some inspiration for his style from Marvel's portrayals of him lately because he thinks it's cool and intimidating. (all three of these characters are actually from mythology, I'm just borrowing their personalities and such from these books)

I'm still building up to the big near-fiasco that I've been hinting is coming for Christmas in this fic and my other one, "Your Son." I've been kind of skipping around on the timeline so sorry for any confusion that's caused. I'm planning to list all the chapters out chronologically on my profile so you can check there if you're confused.


	7. Kidnapped

Kidnapped

Jack woke up with a splitting headache. There was a ringing in his ears and his vision was blurry. He groaned and blinked several times, trying to focus, but a weird stripey pattern was superimposed over everything.

It took him a minute to realize that the pattern of stripes wasn't a trick by his messed up vision. It was actually there. He'd been stuffed inside an old chicken coop.

Groaning, he rolled onto his side and reached out weakly with one hand, trying to find a door or a latch. He'd never been so glad in his immortal life that he was little more than skin and bones. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to move at all.

"Hello, Jack," said an unfamiliar voice.

Jack stopped searching for a door and turned his face toward it. "Who . . . ?"

"I don't believe we've met," a shadowy figure said, moving toward him from the fuzzy blur outside of the cage.

"Huh?" Jack was feeling a little slow. His confusion did not lessen any when a huge furry goat came into view.

"I'm the Yule Goat, an old friend of your father," the goat told him.

"My father?" echoed Jack.

"Yes, good old North. I heard about how you and he finally reconciled, after several hundred years of misunderstandings," Yule Goat told him.

"Huh?" Jack repeated. His ears were still ringing, so he wasn't positive he'd heard right.

"I know all about holding a grudge against North, don't get me wrong. In fact, just last year, you and I might have been able to work together against your old man. Unfortunately, I didn't know you were his son last year, and now you've gone and made up with him, and even joined his secret club, so any chance of an alliance with you against Santa is out," sighed Yule Goat.

"North's . . . North's not my father," protested Jack weakly.

"Don't bother trying to deny it, boy. He so obviously is your father. I don't know how I didn't see it sooner."

"He's not my father. That's just a rumor Loki's been spreading to troll me," Jack said, still gathering his bearings.

"Then why is it that you look exactly like him, hmmm? And don't say you don't. I've known North a very long time. I remember what he looks like, even if I haven't seen him in a couple hundred years," said Yule Goat.

"We don't look alike. North is huge."

"And you're a shrimp, yes. I suppose you take after your mother, whoever she was, where size is concerned. Everything else is all North's. Your eyes. Your hair. Your way with the ladies."

Jack could only stare at the goat dumbfounded for several very long moments. Finally, he had to ask, "What are you talking about?"

"I take it you don't know about your father's rakish ways. Actually, that's probably for the best. It would only give you nightmares."

"Nightmares? You're working with Pitch?" asked Jack, grasping at the one thing Yule Goat said that made any sense.

"The Boogeyman? Heck no! I work alone!" shouted the Yule Goat.

"Okay . . ."

"I used to work with your father. Every year we'd deliver presents to children all over the world! North would ride on my back and I'd take him from house to house! Then populations started increasing and I realized that trying to keep it up was a folly! I suggested we retire! North said no! Then he replaced me with a sleigh and a team of eight reindeer! Nine when that upstart Rudolph showed up with his very shiny nose!"

"What does this have to do with me?" demanded Jack.

"It has everything to do with you!" shouted the Yule Goat.

"I don't see how," confessed Jack. His vision was a good deal clearer now and he could see that they were in an old barn. The chicken coop that he was in was locked shut. And snatches of memories were starting to return to him.

He'd been flying to answer North's summons. There'd been that aurora. He'd flown up into it, because piggybacking off of its magic seemed like the easiest, fastest way to fly from the South Pole to the North Pole. Then something had happened. The aurora had trapped him somehow. It had electrocuted him or something. He had a vague memory of falling from the sky . . . then nothing. Until he woke up here. In a chicken coop.

"Don't you see? You're the perfect leverage to use against North!" declared Yule Goat.

"No I'm not! I'm not his son!" Jack protested.

"Denying it is futile! I know the truth! North has always put the welfare of children above all else. Now, with his own child's life in danger, he'll have no choice but to meet my demands! I have already used one of my scape goats to send him the ransom note! He will come here on Christmas Eve . . . and then he shall set me on fire!"

Jack stared at Yule Goat, trying to make sense of what he'd just said. Finally, he gave up. "You want North to set you on fire?"

"Yes!"

". . ." Jack didn't even know what to say to that.

"My mythology has changed since North replaced me! Once I was his faithful steed! I drew power and belief from the tales told about me carrying him on my back to deliver presents! But now I've been all but forgotten! People still make images of me around the holidays, yes, but then they set them on fire! And the bigger they are, the more likely they are to get burned!"

"And you're happy about this?"

"No! But the burning of these effigies now give me power! And if I myself am set on fire, that should give me even more power!" crowed the Yule Goat.

"Then why drag me into it? Why not just set yourself on fire? I don't imagine it's too hard. All you need are matches and some gasoline," said Jack.

"If all I wanted was to be set on fire, that's all I would need! But to have North, my old friend, my current enemy, set me on fire, that would allow me to steal power from him! And his power has never been greater! Even a fraction of it will make me stronger than I have ever been before!" the Yule Goat shouted.

Jack stared at him, trying to figure out what to say to this. A very large part of him was baffled. Wouldn't getting set on fire hurt the Goat? Even possibly kill it? What good was power when you were dead? But an equally large part of Jack was seriously ticked off. This was what he'd been kidnapped and shoved into a chicken coop for? Some demented goat's foolish ramblings? Not to mention, the goat was doing this to try and mess with North! That was seriously not cool in Jack's book. No one messed with North! Not while Jack Frost was around!

"It's not going to work," he told the Yule Goat.

"Oh, but it will. You're the one person in the world North will do absolutely anything for. His dear, beloved son," Yule Goat insisted.

"I'm not, but that aside, when taking me prisoner, you forgot one very important thing," said Jack, a smirk spreading across his face as he took in details about his prison that he had previously been too out of it to see. Details, like how old the wooden bars were, and how flimsy the ancient cage actually was.

"What's that?" asked the Yule Goat.

"I'm Jack Frost! I make a mess wherever I go! Why the heck did you think it would be a good idea to knock me out and drag me right to your headquarters?" asked Jack as he rolled over and repositioned himself so that he was in a better position to kick sideways.

"Who says this is my headquarters? I never said this was my headquarters!"

"The whole place smells like goat. It's a bit of a giveaway, but it doesn't matter anymore. Know why?"

"Why?"

"Because . . . Up yours!" shouted Jack and kicked at the wooden bars of the chicken coop. They gave way beneath the force of his kick and broke to pieces. Jack rolled out of the cage and landed gracefully on his feet.

"What?!" screamed the Yule Goat.

"I said I'm going to mess up this plan of yours!" Without his staff Jack's powers were greatly diminished, but he was not helpless. He lashed out at the Yule Goat with a wild punch that frosted its face, then darted around the goat, casting his gaze around the barn for his staff. He spied it on the far side of the barn and tried to run toward it, but the Yule Goat recovered from his punch and rammed Jack in the side. He screamed in pain and fell to the ground.

"I told North he'd get you back alive. I never said what shape you'd be in when he got you back," Yule Goat said, and stomped its hoof down on Jack's hand.

Jack screamed and tried to pull his hand away. The Yule Goat let him, but only so it could charge forward and rear up on its hind legs, trying to stomp Jack's chest or face.

"MREOUWWWW!" came an angry cat's cry.

Then the Yule Goat was screaming in pain as a nekomata landed on its head, sinking its claws into his ugly goat eyes.

Jack scooted backwards on all fours, but couldn't hold in a laugh as he watched Crazy Cat tear into Yule Goat. "Best. Cat. Ever!"

Then he heard the barn door fly open and made a mad dash for his staff without even checking to see who it was. He reached his staff and spun around, ready to take out the Yule Goat's reinforcements . . . then saw that they were actually his own reinforcements.

North, Bunny, Tooth, and Sandy had all charged in, ready for a fight, but then just stopped and stared at the sight of Yule Goat getting clawed to bits by a crazy fork-tailed cat demon.

"Move, Crazy Cat!" shouted Jack, and as soon as the cat obeyed, he sent a blast of ice right at the Yule Goat, encasing it completely.

He let out a tired, breathless laugh, then leaned heavily on his staff, taking a moment to admire his work. Yule Goat looked like it had been crystallized in the ice, which had to be the exact opposite of getting set on fire. Or maybe that was drowning in a lake. But whichever it was, Yule Goat had messed with the wrong spirit if he wanted anything to do with fire.

Jack laughed again despite his exhaustion then turned to his friends. He had the feeling it was time for some explanations.

* * *

an: The Yule Goat is an old, mostly forgotten part of the Santa myths. According to Wikipedia, the legend used to be that Santa road on the back of a goat to deliver presents. Nowadays, that's mostly forgotten, but people in the Nordic countries have a tradition of making huge goat statues around the holidays, and arsonists have a tradition of trying to burn them to the ground before Christmas.

So in this fic, Yule Goat's just kind of a psycho has-been who holds a grudge against North and thinks that if North sets him on fire it will let him steal North's power. Unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong kid to use as leverage against North.


End file.
